


Did it have to be you?

by Arya_the_Assassin



Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Spiderman - Fandom, The Avengers
Genre: Abuse, BAMF Reader, Drugs, Help, I can’t tag, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya_the_Assassin/pseuds/Arya_the_Assassin
Summary: Reader/Ol’ BuckLots of swearingAbuseSelf harmAlso we have SpidermanTony is a messy bitch who lives for dramaLets do this





	Did it have to be you?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey kiddos! This was actually my first fanfic so please enjoy and be nice, but yaknow I appreciate constructive criticism

The first words your soulmate say to you are tattooed on your wrist. They appear when your soulmate reaches fifteen, or when you meet, or when either of you die. Whichever comes first. Of course, it came as a surprise when you were born with six words scrawled on your tiny baby wrist, you were an object of scientific fascination. The words were written in a messy handwriting on your skinny (y/s/c) wrist. The very same wrist that, seventeen years later was being held in an iron grip by the one you had once called your father. It was a wrist covered in tattoos, burn marks and scars. A wrist, attached to a scrawny arm belonging to a girl with purple hair, silver eyes and more piercings than a Starbucks barista. Your father-no, Phil- squeezed you wrist harder, forcing you to look into his muddy brown eyes. He spat into your face and said quietly: “Did you not learn your lesson, bitch? You aren’t wanted here. You have five minutes before every single man I have is out for your blood, now fuck off and never come back. Get your shit. Then get out, freak.”  
He released your arm and you bolted into your room, throwing all your possessions into a duffle bag, which wasn’t hard, since all you owned was a laptop, a change of clothes and a knife. You jumped out of the window, just as Phil entered the room, landing on a fire escape and making your way to the top of the building before slinging the bag on your back and leaping from rooftop to rooftop before landing on another apartment balcony and climbing in through a window. You sat on the bed and waited, thinking about why you couldn’t go back to your home, and why every gang member in the city wanted to kill you.

<<>>

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  
“Nope. He wants it now. Twenty thousand dollars worth of shit and he gives it to me, probably so he can use it as an excuse to beat me again, but right now, all I have to do is get it to him.” You looked at your best friend and partner-in-crime, Alex Chase, and sighed. You didn’t know why you’d gotten in with the drug dealing crowd, but it was making you were making money, and that’s what mattered. Alex looked at you.  
“Y/N, if you don’t deliver that bag, they will kill you. This isn’t some soft gang shit, this is an actual terrorist organisation, and your fucking dad is in charge. You are fucked, man..” You glared at him, then at the carrier bag in your lap. Maybe he was right. You nodded. “ OK Alex. One more delivery then no more. I’m out,” you told him. He smiled and hugged you. “I’m proud of you, Squirt. Stay safe, and remember, you know who to call.”  
“Bye Al”  
You glanced at your watch. Fuck. You were late. Very late. Dad was gonna kill you.

“She should be here soon.” “Yes, but how soon?” “How should I know? The bitch freak never shows up on time.” You heard the voices inside the room shut off as you knocked on the door and stepped in without an answer. You glanced around at the men gathered around the table, most of them with a hooker in their lap. You placed the bag on the table and tried to back out, but your dad stopped you. Very softly, he said: “Why are you late, Y/N?” You gulped and turned to him. Did he know? Alex was the son of the NYPD Head Officer, but your dad didn’t know that.... did he? Phil looked at you again. “Were you talking to that fucking rat?” He asked, anger starting to show in his tone. “YOU FUCKING BITCH, ANSWER ME!” He suddenly screamed in your face. He looked around. “Clear the room.” All of the men left, the only one sparing you a glance was Clint, a tall brunette who had recently been promoted, due to the other guy being killed. You snapped back to your dad as he unbuckled his belt. You turned and tried to run but he held you firm. He looked down at you and smiled. “ This is for your own good.” You screamed as the belt came down.

<<>>

You were interrupted from your memory by a shrill squeak, as you looked up you saw a pale brown haired guy looking at you in alarm. You stood up. “Hey, Parker,” you said, as the blood from your back started seeping through your thin t-shirt. He looked at you in alarm. Why? Not like he can judge, he gets how it is, he’s a fucking vigilante. -Maybe cuz you just fainted- said the voice in your head. That was the last thing you remembered before it all faded to black


End file.
